Family Matters
by Elissa2807
Summary: A short story (with potential for more, if people like it) about King Alistair and Queen Elissa. Stays mainly true to DA lore with some minor changes for storytelling purposes. My first fan fiction, with thanks to Bioware for the inspiration.
1. Return to Redcliffe

"Maker, Alistair, where are we going?" Elissa held onto his wrists as his hands covered her eyes, steering her through the grounds of Redcliffe. "I told you, I want to show you something!" Alistair deftly prevented her stumble with his elbow, keeping her eyes covered. "Ta da!" he uncovered her eyes, revealing an unremarkable wooden ladder. "Andraste's knickers, Alistair, you brought me here to show me a ladder...? Wait – is this...?"

"This was my bedroom!" he grinned at her. "Well not here, this was the horse's bedroom. But up there, in the hayloft. I wonder if the ladder will still hold my weight?" He tested the bottom rung gingerly, then put his full weight on it. "Well it holds me, I dunno about you though!" He was rewarded with a slap on the backside for his cheek, and wiggled it before climbing the rest of the way up.

Elissa followed her husband up the ladder into the tiny loft. "This was where you slept?" She looked around the tiny space, and her heart broke a little for the way he had been treated in those early days, although out loud she said "it's very cute. Cosy..." Alistair was rummaging around underneath a bale of hay with a threadbare horse blanket draped over it – his bed, she supposed. "Has anyone been up here since you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," he replied. "When I was sent to the chantry, somebody collected my things for me – I didn't get a chance to come and collect everything. I've told you before that I didn't really get on with the other kids, and this isn't the most secure of places, so I didn't leave my stuff on show. I had a secret hiding place... ah ha!" He pulled something out triumphantly from under the hay bale and handed it to her. Elissa giggled "you look like Dog when he brings back some mangled old ball of wool!" but she took the figure that he handed to her and looked at it. It was a golem figurine, quite a well made one, if a bit worn and battered. "It used to move and it's eyes used to flash, I think it was enchanted. It's probably worn off by now though. I wonder if Sandal could fix it for me?," Alistair mused, absently playing with another small item. "I had this too – it's one of those miniature paintings of King Maric and Queen Rowan that they do for Royal weddings. I stole it from one of the cooks in the kitchens. I used to stare at it for hours, wondering if I looked anything like him, wondering if we had anything in common. Silly really,".

"Not silly at all," She said, settling by him on the hay. "It's only natural to want to know where you came from. Did nobody ever tell you that you looked like him? You're identical!" Elissa took the painting from him, studying it for a moment. She had met Maric many years ago, and Cailan, at Ostagar of course but also when they had come to Highever when she was much younger. They had been very alike, all blond hair and blue eyes and confidence, and although Alistair had slighter darker hair and hazel eyes, facially he was probably more similar to Maric than Cailan had been.

"Well, that'll come in handy when it comes to hiding my identity in Orlais won't it?," He chuckled, and Elissa recognised his usual method of deflecting the awkward questions with humour. "Oh hello, aren't you King Alistair? No not at all, I'm the long lost King Maric! Oh that's alright then! I don't know who we'll pass you off as though, you don't look much like Cailan... Are you looking forward to it?"

"Our little honeymoon? Of course! If I'm honest, I'm almost looking forward to being anonymous again. To not being the queen, to not being Warden-Commander... I mean, I know I'm only in charge of you at the moment, but that's difficult enough!" She squirmed away laughing as he tackled her to the hay.

After the wedding, they had decided to leave Ferelden for a short time to take a honeymoon. Alistair was worried that after her long recovery from the archdemon attack, followed in quick succession by her new responsibilities as Queen of Ferelden and of planning a strategy to rebuild the Grey Wardens she was burnt out, and she knew that his first few months as king hadn't exactly been easy on him either. They had decided to combine a short honeymoon with a trip to see the Grey Wardens in Orlais, as well as a diplomatic visit to Empress Celene in Val Royeaux. Leliana and Zevran were to join them, as they had decided to spend their honeymoon not in fancy hotels and resorts, but travelling incognito around the smaller towns and cities in Orlais.

Through Bodahn, they had commissioned new armour – Elissa's dragon armour was bad enough, but Alistair could hardly wear his golden suit of plate and pretend to be a travelling adventurer – and ordered bedrolls, tents and supplies. She smiled as she thought about what else might transpire on their little trip, for she had heard on the grapevine that a certain head of security had been spotted coming out of a jewellers shop with a small parcel...


	2. Common People

Elissa wiped the blood from her face, panting, and turned to face the last of the bandits, her longsword raised in readiness. He was close to her, his bulbous face spattered with blood, a vicious expression on his face as he raised a wicked looking dagger – but then suddenly, his face crumpled, and he slumped to his knees, revealing a grinning Zevran spinning his own two daggers triumphantly. "Seven!" he crowed, and she couldn't help but smirk.

"Seriously Zev, are you not over the 'let's count our kills' thing yet? It was only ever Oghren that cared! And where you got the idea from I will never know."  
"A bit of healthy competition is always a good thing! And when you are beating a dwarf it is even better. Alas, I have to make do with you three humourless humans," the assassin replied in typical overly dramatic style, but his wink told her he was joking. Elissa wiped the worst of the blood from her blades and sheathed them, bending to investigate the body of the bandit Zevran had dropped. "Collect up any loot you can find, everyone. We'll take it back to the Chantry and maybe they can find the original owners,"  
Zevran left her side to go and open a chest that Alistair had found, and Elissa continued to search the bodies on the ground.

"It is a good thing you are doing, you know," Leliana crouched down next to her, smiling. "The Maker will be pleased," She held open a small sack for Elissa to drop the items into.

"Well, it's not like we need to keep or sell any of it these days, is it. It's only right that we should try to get it back to the rightful owners. Although this amulet is very pretty..." she laughed as her friend tutted in mock disapproval, and dropped the amulet into the sack. Standing up, she looked around the area. Alistair and Zevran were dragging the remaining bodies into a pile. When they got back to the town, they would tell the authorities who could come and safely deal with them. "Alistair, you hair looks gorgeous!" she called to her husband, who was looking disapprovingly at himself in the reflection of a dagger. He made a face at her, and she stuck her tongue out back at him. "Right come on everyone, lets get back to the town,"

They were staying in a small Orlesian town, called Belforte, just a day or so's walk from Val Royeaux. Diplomatic visit to the Empress over, King Alistair and Queen Elissa had boarded their carriage in their finery and departed the capital, exiting the carriage a few miles down the road as Alistair and Ellie, dressed in their armour and with their packs on their backs. All of their 'royal' things were being taken back to Ferelden, neither of them fancying carrying around 3 days worth of courtly clothing around in a backpack. Val Royeaux had been much as Leliana had described, cosmopolitan and extravagant, but Elissa thought the countryside just as beautiful. Tiny farms and homesteads dotted the countryside, and flowers waved in the sunshine. She knew that she had always lived a privileged life, but sometimes she thought it must be nice to be one of the common people. Their surroundings were a huge contrast to the blighted landscape they had spent so much time in, and her heart fell as she thought of the reconstruction that awaited them at home. Alistair's nudge broke her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him. "Stop thinking about work!," he ordered, and she laughed at the way he had seen through her so easily.  
"We really have to spend some time apart," she joked. "You're inside my head!"

Alistair grinned naughtily, and dropped an arm across her shoulders "That's not the only place I'd like to be inside...," he whispered in her ear, following up with a kiss to the neck, and she squirmed away laughing, eyes twinkling.  
"Such a shame we are not camping tonight, we won't get to listen like we did during the blight," quipped Zevran, sprinting away chuckling as Alistair pretended to chase after him.

The chanter manning the board looked at them in awe as they dropped the sacks of loot at his feet. "Recovered items. From the bandit camp to the west," Alistair told him. "Unfortunately a peaceful conclusion was impossible, so the bodies are still there waiting to be disposed of. Could you make sure that this gets back to as many of the owners as possible?"

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just," the Chanter inclined his head to them, and picked their offerings to take inside.

"Right – lunchtime anyone?" Alistair's suggestion was interrupted by a young Chantry sister, who approached them tentatively.  
"Ex - excuse me..., can you help?" she stuttered nervously, and Leliana smiled her encouragement at the girl.

"Of course we will help you , in any way we can! What is the problem?,"

"Well, it isn't me exactly," the girl began, tugging nervously at her robes and glancing back at the other sisters in the courtyard. "It's just that, there's a woman – she's had a job on the board for a while now, but nobody will help her because she can't pay a reward. The Chantry won't pay because she's an elf. You just seemed so generous, and you brought all those things back, I thought you might be able..."

"Of course we'll help," Elissa broke in. "Where can we find her?,"

The group approached the small bakery close to the outskirts of town. The shop was nicely presented, flowerboxes outside the door and a pretty curtain in the window, but the area was quiet and Elissa couldn't imagine there being many customers this far out. Alistair pushed the door open and they entered, their armoured bodies almost filling the space inside. An elven woman of around forty was behind the counter, and she raised her hands hurridly as they entered.

"I already paid the rent this month," she exclaimed "I don't owe anything! You thugs can just go back to Guillaume and tell him his tricks won't work on me..."  
Elissa caught sight of a flash of movement in the back room of the shop. She studied the door for a few seconds, and then turned her attention back to the woman. The elf had short blonde hair, cropped closely at the back of her head but falling longer at the front. Her eyes were large, and unusually, a deep brown colour. She looked harried, and Elissa moved to reassure her. "We haven't come from... Guillaume?" she stumbled over the unfamilar name. "We were directed here by the Chantry. Are you – Elodie?"

The woman's eyes widened, and Elissa caught a glimpse of what looked like hope, or excitement in them, before she managed to control her emotions. "You have come to help me?"

"If we can," confirmed Alistair, "Sister Marianne said that you have been waiting for someone to take your job from the chanters board,"  
The elven woman seemed to deflate. "I cannot pay you," she sighed, turning away to tidy a tray of pastries. "If you are not going to buy anything, you may as well leave. I must have been stupid, thinking that a troupe of human adventurers would help an elf. It's always the same,"  
Zevran stepped forward out of Alistair's shadow, tipping back the hood he wore. "Less of the human, thank you very much," he quipped, grinning as the woman turned to look at him. "And speaking of elven prejudice, how exactly does an elf come to own and run her own shop?"

Elodie seemed to consider them once again, head tilted to one side. She was attractive, as most elves were, but an air of weariness pervaded her beauty. "It was my husband's shop," she answered eventually. "But he is no longer here. My customers enjoy my wares, and so I make just enough money to keep Guillaume off my back,"

"But very little more," stated Zevran, his eyes travelling over her threadbare clothing. "hence no reward for the chanters board,"

Elodie's eyes flashed in anger, but before she could say anything, Alistair stepped in. "Zevran... Madame – we came here to ask if we could help you. We do not want nor need a reward. We are willing to help you, if you will accept it,"

Elissa watched quietly. She had noted the movement in the back room again, but was watching Elodie carefully. Considering she had just been given an unconditional offer of help, she seemed strangely on edge. Admittedly, she had been insulted by Zevran – but in Elissa's experience, offers of help like theirs were rarely something to deliberate over. "Who is in the back room," she asked softly.

"It's my daughter. Marie, come here," The younger girl appeared next to her mother. She was around 15 – although Elissa was never sure with elves – and bore an uncanny resemblance to Elodie, the same blond hair and dark eyes. Elissa wondered at the unusual combination, but was taken from her thoughts at the woman's words. "I thank you. If you are offering to help me, then I would be grateful for your help,"


	3. Truth

They sat, crowded into the tiny room at the back of the shop, munching on pastries that had been provided by Marie. Elissa had to admit, they were good – and Alistair was currently showing his approval by reaching for his fourth. Zevran had refused to sit down, and was standing by the door. Old habits died hard, and Elissa knew that he rarely let his guard down in a strange place. Leliana was chatting to Marie in Orlesian, and she caught her eye and nodded. The bard was less threatening than either of the men, and Elissa still wasn't sure of the situation, wanting to sit back and observe.

"So, Elodie. Shall we get to the point?" Leliana asked the question in Fereldan, and Elissa was grateful. Leliana would be handy to translate anything that the woman couldn't manage, but it would be useful to hear her first hand. "What kind of help do you need?"

Elodie signed heavily before beginning. "My husband. He's around 6 foot tall, blond hair, blue eyes. He was taken just over a year ago, by bandits. He and my daughter were out picking apples when it happened. They attacked them both, but Marie played dead and they left her, but took him. As they left, she followed them – they took him to an underground hideout in the woods. Every time we've been there, it's been heavily guarded, and neither of us have the skill to get past them," she looked down at her hands, twisting them agitatedly in her lap.

Leliana's eyes met Elissa's as she asked "You said, 'he and my daughter,' - is your husband not Marie's father? What is his name?"

"No...," the woman cast her eyes downwards. "Marie's father left a long time ago. My husband – Mark - he is not really my husband. He is human, and neither Dalish nor Chantry would marry us. But we live – lived – as though we were, and he treated us both well, as his own family. I love him. He loves me. I want him home. Marie can take you, she can show you where they took him. I just want him home!"

"How do you know he's still alive?" asked Leliana, gently. She reached for the woman's hands and held them softly, and raised her eyebrow surreptitiously towards Elissa, who was busy watching Marie. The teenager was watching her mother intently, eyes wide and unblinking.

"Well... well, they took him to a hideout, didn't they. They wouldn't have done that if they were going to kill him, they would have done it there and then!" Elodie pulled her hands away from Leliana's, and stood up, pacing away from them in the small room. "They have him as a slave or something, they must do! Please...," she turned back towards them, eyes pleading, "you have to help me, you have to find him,"

Elissa stood too, at that point. "No," she said, bluntly, causing Alistair to look towards her in shock.

Elodie stuttered before her. "But you said... you said you would help me,"

"No. He said he would help you. She said she would help you," she stated, indicating Alistair and Leliana. "But I asked your name, and said nothing else. I am in charge here, and I won't lead my friends into a potentially dangerous situation where I don't have all of the information. There is something you are not telling us,"

"I am telling you everything! My husband has been taken by bandits, I believe him to be still alive as a slave, I want you to rescue him!"

"Mother..." Marie interjected quietly, but Elodie silenced her with a wave of the hand.

"He needs your help,"

"But Elodie... If a team of bandits wanted a slave, would they not have taken Marie? A small eleven girl unable to fight back, or a grown man – a grown human man? There is a reason you are so certain that he's alive, and him being a slave is not it,"

The two women stood, eyes locked. The tension in the room was palpable, but was broken by a shrill voice. "He's a noble!" Marie all but shouted. "He's a noble, he's important, that's why they wanted him. That's why she knows!" she ducked as Elodie wheeled round to clout her, but Elissa caught her arm to prevent it.

"Is this true?" Elissa asked hotly "your husband – your partner - is highborn? How did you meet him, did he give up his holdings to be with you?"

"Ran away with the boss, did you?" quipped Zevran from the doorway, before being silenced by Alistair's glare.

"It's true," admitted Elodie, but she cast a sharp glance at Zevran. "But he was not my boss. We were captives when we met, on a slave ship. I didn't know who he was, I thought he was just a captive, a slave like me. It felt like months that we were on that boat, but he was always charming, always trying to cheer us up, always sharing rations even when we had almost nothing. He took a beating once when he stopped one of the crew from... hurting... Marie. We grew close, but I thought I would never see him again. But then something happened – the captain, the crew, they cast us off the ship, freed us and told us to disappear. So we decided to disappear together," She swallowed hard. "He had a piece of jewellery – a ring. He sold it to a travelling merchant who gave him 11 sovereigns for it. No normal man has jewellery worth that much, I thought that he had stolen it and that maybe that was why he was a prisoner. But he assured me it was his, told me that it was the last thing remaining of his old life and that he didn't want that any more. That the money was to start a new life with us," A tear rolled down her cheek, and Elodie swiped it angrily away. "We came here, found this place, bought this shop. That, Antivan," she spat the word out, glaring at Zevran "is how I come to run my own shop,"

Elissa nodded, thoughtfully. "So who is he? Mark? I know of no Ferelden nobles by that name. Is he Orlesian?"

"I don't...," Elodie caught Elissa's warning look, and sighed. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. He doesn't go by his old identity any more, he left that life behind. His name is Mark, and that is all I will say. If that means that you won't help, then so be it,"

"No. That will do. We leave tomorrow at dawn. Be ready to guide us,"


End file.
